So, the Lord God took Abraham outside and had him look at the sky and count the stars. Imagine what the night sky must have looked like then, in the days before electric lights.
Those of you who are old enough may remember Johnny Carson’s impersonation of the astronomer Carl Sagan, in which Carson would say there are “billions and billions of stars.”
While Sagan himself never actually used the phrase, he did, in what may have been a humorous gesture, title a book Billions and Billions. There are, in fact probably close to 400 billion stars in our galaxy, which lies in a universe that may contain more than 100 billion similar galaxies. There are more stars in the heavens than there are grains of sand on this planet.
Being something of an amateur astronomer myself, the first reading today appealed to me. It spoke to me where I live, as scripture should speak to us, and it reminded me of other passages that reflect on the created beauty of the heavens. Job asks, “Can you bind the chains of the Pleiades or loose the cords of Orion?” In another place Amos says, “He who made the Pleiades and Orion and turns deep darkness to morning… the Lord is his name.”
If you go out far enough from city lights this time of year, and at a time of night when there is no moon, with sharp eyes you can make out the nebulous clouds in Orion and the multitude of stars that lie within the Pleiades. The wise heart knows that they proclaim the splendor of their creator.
While the emphasis in the passage from Genesis, which we heard this morning, is on the enormity of the number of the promised descendants of Abraham, and their comparison to the number of stars, the emphasis for the combined lectionary readings today is on the magnificence of the glory revealed in God, which the heavens declare so eloquently but, even more, that our lives can somehow hold. Specifically, we look to the work of God in Christ, and to his “exodus” accomplished in Jerusalem, that is, to his passage from this world to God—from earth to heaven. The glory that we focus on is both the glory of the cross and the glory of the risen and heavenly life.
As the journey of Lent takes us on a symbolic exodus, a wandering from the Wadi of Egypt to the Euphrates as it were, we keep in mind that we are to focus our vision and our lives on that which awaits at Easter—on the glory that our hearts were made to hold—the sure promise and covenant of the heavenly life.
However, in order for the glory of heaven to express something real in terms of faith we must share it with others and communicate it to them. In doing so we, like Abraham, put our faith in the Lord and thus we have it credited to us as righteousness. This means that faith in God is itself the realized potential of salvation. Faith has the power to save us because it always points us to the love of God that reaches to realities beyond the limits of mortal imagination, and it inspires us to do good works and to act in charity toward one another.
As a convert, learning the discipline of Lent came slowly to me but I have grown over time to view it as one of the most special liturgical seasons of the year. During Lent, more than any other time, we have the specific opportunity to reflect on how God may want to reveal the glories of the heavenly world to us through his Son. Especially this is true in terms of God’s gift to us of Christ in the Eucharist, which reveals the connection between the created order and Christ; that is, it shows us the continuity between the things that were made and that which is eternally begotten.
God is capable of far more than the human mind can comprehend, yet God has made us able to grasp the deepest of mysteries by placing Christ in our midst.
Lent presents us with a special opportunity to consider and even apprehend the power that alone can change the face of the earth. During Lent we practice letting go of worldly things in order to remind ourselves that we are citizens of heaven, whence we await our savior. The power of God is love, and when we gaze upon that love and yield ourselves to it, and when we allow it to enter into our hearts, it does more than merely awe us and inspire us, even more than the starriest of nights, it reveals to us the presence of God and the covenant of the citizenship of heaven in our everyday lives.
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